


Unspoken Words

by CherryK



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 04:37:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1731407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryK/pseuds/CherryK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melinda can't sleep, the demons of the past won't let her - the same goes for Phil. They have their own way of dealing with the pain in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unspoken Words

„May?“

Wearily she lifted her head from the surface of the coffee table at the sound of Phil’s voice. What had she wanted here again? What time was it? Had she overslept? As she moved to stretch, she almost knocked the untouched bottle of liquor off the table, and everything fell back into place. She had woken from the same old nightmare and had wanted to attempt drowning the bloody pictures from her past afterwards. A voice of reason in the back of her mind had held her back from doing so in the end, and she had collapsed on the couch. Nonetheless, she still felt like she had drowned the whole bottle in one gulp. When she felt Phil sitting down next to her, she nearly shuddered with disgust of herself. She couldn’t bear looking at him in the state she was in, but she sensed his gaze lingering on her. It sent more shivers down her spine, close to the point of discomfort. Braving herself, she turned to face him, her dark, empty eyes meeting his green, concerned ones.

Phil was wearing a slightly rumpled t-shirt and sweatpants. Melinda assumed that it had not only been her who had been shaken awake by demons of the past. She noticed his brows furrowing slightly. He had to have noticed how drained she looked. Still, he neither said anything, nor did he reach out to her; he just stared at her with an unmoved expression. It was one of those stares that would lay bare a person’s very soul, making her feel as though he knew _everything_ about her, even her darkest secrets. Yet Melinda did not feel exposed. They had been aware of one another’s nightmares for a while now, but had never felt the need to talk about them, sharing a mutual understanding. They were not the kind of people who broke down in front of others, rather the kind who kept the pain to themselves; it was personal to them.

Still, it had not always been _that_ personal.

_Even though they had tried to avoid public displays of affection, there had been rumors in their earlier days. They had always made a great team, and one never went on a mission without the other: the counterpart, the soul mate. Out in the field things were harsh and merciless. On a good day you would get away with a few scratches that wouldn’t even scar once they healed. On a bad day it happened that someone got severely wounded or even killed, and if it wasn’t you, it was someone you cared about. Phil and Melinda had lost several fellow agents out there in the field. Another agent down for S.H.I.E.L.D.; another friend to mourn for them._

_The dark of the night was merciless, especially after one of the bad days. The bullets would follow them into their dreams and death and loss would find them even in their most secret hiding places. Melinda lost count of how often she had screamed herself awake in those nights. At some point Phil had brought it up and had offered to stay with her. She hadn’t refused. In his arms she always felt like nothing could harm her. She wouldn’t admit it to him, but she had never slept better before. The nightmares ceased.  
Every day again they prayed that the next agent down wouldn’t be their other half, promised each other to have the other’s back at any time, until the end of their lives._

_Then Bahrain had happened and left Melinda’s world shattered. She had built a wall around herself, locking herself in and everyone else out – she couldn’t bear anyone else ever getting hurt on her watch again. What she had not realized back then was that hurting someone was exactly what she was doing. Phil had tried to reach out to her, tried to put the pieces back together, but, on instinct, she had pushed him away.  He still didn’t give up on her, had faith, that the “old” Melinda was still somewhere in there, beneath a carefully crafted mask of stoicism. She had left the field and gotten transferred to Administration, hoping to find peace. However, she would never have thought that she’d miss him the way she did, miss the feeling of being close to him at night._

_When the news on the matter of his death reached her, she didn’t shed a single tear. Attending his funeral, she’d ignored the aching in her chest. When she was finally alone that day, the aching turned into a roaring fire of destruction, turning her very soul to ash. She did not leave the house for days…_

It cost Melinda a lot of willpower to push away her trail of thought. She did not want to remember any of this. Phil was there, right beside her, his eyes still locked with hers. Melinda couldn’t take it anymore: His investigating gaze, the worry that had now found its way into it, clouding its sharpness. She wanted that worry to disappear. She didn’t care whether she would break their unspoken agreements, or invade personal space. Not breaking the eye contact, she scooted closer, towards him. The worry evident in his eyes mixed with surprise and curiosity and Melinda could tell that Phil was about to say something. She shook her head slightly, a movement barely noticeable, and he released the breath he had taken to speak. Words were not needed given the circumstances.

 

Words were not needed as she rested her head in the crook of his neck and leaned into him for comfort.

  
Words were not needed as she felt his arms draw her in, holding her close.

  
Words were not needed as he gently brushed a loose strand of hair away from her cheek.

 

It was _their_ way of dealing with pain. Together, silently comforting one another, never letting go, words unspoken between them. Melinda couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity of the situation. For the first time in weeks she felt truly at home.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a little over a month ago and first published on my deviantArt account.
> 
> The ending feels a little rushed, but I haven't bothered to fix that yet, ugh.
> 
> I hope you can enjoy this anyway, and perhaps leave some feedback! :)


End file.
